


#Brimerica Forever

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Hidden Relationship, M/M, USUK - Freeform, the personifications are like celebs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: After the world discovers the existence of the nation personifications, Alfred and Arthur struggle to balance their personal and professional lives whilst hiding their relationship from the press.





	#Brimerica Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is a commissioned work for the lovely @owynsama on tumblr!

Alfred was seated on the couch in Arthur’s cozy countryside cottage, watching the news on the too-big flat screen television he had insisted upon purchasing, when the bright yellow banner appears at the bottom of the screen. Arthur appeared in the doorway with two steaming mugs, one of coffee and one of tea, in each hand and Alfred tore his eyes from the screen to look at the man as he leaned against the door frame. Arthur smiled softly at him, green eyes so full of adoration that Alfred grinned and opened his arms to the elder man, beckoning him forward.

Arthur rolled his eyes in faux-annoyance and took a seat on the plush couch beside Alfred. He handed the man his mug of coffee and settled in, tucking himself beneath one of Alfred’s strong arms. He crossed his ankles and sighed contentedly as he rested his head against the American. 

“If we’re going to watch this rubbish, would you at least turn it to a British news source?” He complained, glaring in the direction of the TV. 

“Gotta keep up with the latest, babe,” Alfred quipped before taking a sip of coffee. He made a face and quickly set it down on the end table at his side. “‘Sides, look--a breaking news thing just showed up.”

Arthur turned his attention to the TV as did Alfred, reading the words that run across the screen in large, bold letters. ‘BREAKING: USA PERSONIFICATION ‘ALFRED F. JONES’ INVOLVED IN ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP.’

Arthur’s eyes widened at the same time as Alfred’s and they instantly looked to one another with worry. Alfred tightened his grip around Arthur’s shoulders, drawing him nearer with his face somewhat pale and his teeth biting down upon his plump bottom lip. 

The news of the personifications had broken only six months ago and had been the source of a constant media frenzy ever since. Every night it appeared that a new discovery had been made regarding the existence of the nations’ personifications. News outlets discussed everything from the personifications’ involvements in wars past and present to the latest viral tweets made about them.

Alfred, who had always loved being in the spotlight, relished in the attention. Although he had never asked to be recognized for his contributions to various areas of American history and culture, it was nice to be spoken about for once. Even the criticism was welcome to Alfred--he became irate when the jabs were directed at personal matters, but he appreciated his people thinking critically and reflecting upon the history he was involved in. Alfred had enthusiastically taken many interviews across the country and had become something of an American celebrity, with people frequently stopping him for pictures and autographs while he was out and reporters constantly trailing him. 

Arthur was less thrilled by the notice the world suddenly took to him. He had never much liked being the center of attention, nor did he think he deserved the amount of recognition he was getting now. After all, it was his job to do what he did--all of the wars he fought in, events he’d participated in, change he’d helped enact--it was all in a day’s work for a nation. As such, Arthur had been much less forthcoming with information and had only done two interviews since the news of the personifications’ existence first broke. He was a private man and he wanted to maintain a much privacy as possible. 

Still, most of the nations had quickly become celebrities in their home countries and even abroad. Alfred was frequently stopped for pictures anywhere he went, as were several of the more charismatic nations such as Italy or China. Few nations had been able to carry on normally since the news broke, as even those who weren’t seen as celebrities were still hounded for their historical knowledge and insights. 

As such, certain guidelines had been formed regarding proper etiquette for nations now that they were in the spotlight. The nations had met alongside world leaders to determine proper boundaries regarding the press, and had come up with a list of informal rules. Although there was no strict enforcement of the rules nor was there any penalty for breaking them, it had been widely agreed upon that they were better off followed. 

One such rule was the minimization of romantic relationships between nations. Although few personifications existed who had not at one point engaged in a romantic or sexual relationship with another, these relations were to be kept under lock and key and mentioned as little as possible. Leaders encouraged nations to hide any past or current lovers--human or otherwise--and to emphasize their platonic relationships with others; especially those friendships that aligned with their current political alliances. 

Thus, Alfred and Arthur couldn’t help but to be worried at the idea of a popular news source discussing Alfred’s romantic relationships. The pair watched eagerly as the news switched from the current story to their ‘Breaking News’, eyes glued to the screen.

A pretty young woman sat front-and-center, a small stack of papers in front of her, and began to speak. “Good evening. We move now to a topic that has captured the nation for almost half a year--the personification of our very own country, the United States of America--a man who refers to himself as ‘Alfred F. Jones.’ Records of past relationships of Mr. Jones’, as well as a relationship that is currently ongoing, have been uncovered.” 

Alfred glanced to Arthur, noting the furrow of Arthur’s thick brows and the tight grip he had on the mug held in his hand. The Brit’s strong jaw was tensed, his eyes wary. 

“Long before Mr. Jones was discovered, the ‘Special Relationship’ between The United States and Britain had been introduced--but just how _special_ is it?” The woman asked the audience, her tone critical. “According to several former White House staff members, Mr. Jones and the representative of Great Britain, Arthur Kirkland, have been engaged in a romantic relationship since at least the late 1960’s. Numerous former White House employees claim to have seen Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland engaged in romantic behaviors at several points during their employment at the White House.”

“Shit!” Alfred groaned aloud. “Now everyone who’s ever seen us doing anything romantic is gonna come forward with a story.”

Arthur ignored him in favor of the woman on the screen, who was still speaking at length on the subject. 

“We have also obtained pictures posted by the user ‘alllie__xo’ on twitter which seem to show Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland kissing behind a bookshelf at a London bookstore. These pictures were taken only last week. Since these photos were posted, several others have come forward with pictures of Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland together, speculating on the nature of their relationship. The hashtag ‘#Brimerica’ has gone viral across multiple social media platforms and appears to be an encouragement of the relationship between the two personifications. More on this story when we come back,” the woman concluded before commercials began to play. 

“Fuck,” Arthur breathed out, looking to his boyfriend with concern. “What do we do?” 

“No idea, dude,” Alfred said with a shake of his head. “Why are these creeps taking pictures of us?! Don’t we deserve some privacy?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Well, perhaps if you didn’t smile like a movie star and happily take pictures with every person that asks for one, they would be less inclined to take them,” he teased halfheartedly. He’d meant for it to lighten the mood, but Alfred ran his hands through his hair and sighed. 

“I know you’re joking, but you’re probably right,” Alfred replied. “I’m gonna call Mattie. He’ll know what to do.” He said, taking his phone from his pocket and quickly dialing his brother.

“ _Hey, Al,_ ” Matthew answered. 

“Hey, Matt. Art’s here too. Have you seen anything about he and I on the news lately?” Alfred asked.

Matthew sighed audibly from the other end. “ _ Yeah, I saw a story about it last night _ ,” he replied, sounding upset. “ _ I was wondering when you’d hear it. Apparently there’s some viral pictures _ .”  
  
“I know,” Alfred said, shaking his head. “Fuck, man. What do we do? I mean, we’re supposed to keep this under wraps, but it’s clearly already out, so what’s the best way to handle this? I mean, how should we confirm it? We need to be careful about this.”

Arthur nodded his agreement. “Exactly. We need to make sure it’s clear that our relationship doesn’t affect our political alliances or interactions.”

Matthew paused for a moment before responding. “ _ If I were you two, I wouldn’t confirm it at all _ .” 

“What d’you mean? Like, we should ignore the whole thing and pretend it never happened?”

“ _ No _ ,” Matthew replied, “ _ I mean that you two should deny the whole thing. Claim photoshop on the pictures and maintain that you two only have a close platonic bond, nothing more. If you confirm, it’ll get blown up no matter what you say. You know how these things go -- even if you tell them that it won’t affect things, everyone’ll speculate. They’ll find some way to prove that it’s affecting your political interactions _ .”

Alfred and Arthur looked to each other, both visibly disheartened at the idea. Alfred reached for Arthur’s hand, his pinky finger just brushing his boyfriend's when the man suddenly retracted. Arthur worked his jaw for a moment before a stunning degree of calm overtook his face. Alfred knew Arthur was a master at concealing his emotions, but even he was startled to see Arthur so easily mask his distress. 

“Alright,” Arthur said, his tone cold and calm, “how do we go about this, then? Should we make some appearances, perhaps?”

“Whoa, whoa, can’t we at least _ talk _ about possibly confirming our relationship?” Alfred protested immediately. 

Arthur shook his head, eyes steely and jaw set. “No,” he said, “Matthew's right--it’d do too much damage. We all agreed to the rules that were set. If we turn back now, we’ll be making an enemy of our bosses.”

In response, Alfred fixed his boyfriend with his signature puppy-dog pout. Usually such an expression would have Arthur sighing as he melted into his arms, reluctantly giving into whatever requests Alfred had made. Now, though, Arthur barely spared Alfred a passing glance before turning his attention back to Alfred’s cell phone. 

“ _ I’d call Italy if I were you. Remember all the speculation about he and Germany that flew around a few months ago? He’ll probably have some tips on denying it. _ ” Matthew recommended.

Arthur nodded. “Ah, yes. Thank you for all your help. I’ll get in contact with him.” 

“Thanks, bro,” Alfred muttered, upset. 

“ _ Good luck to both of you. Let me know if you need anything else, eh? _ ”

“Yep. Talk soon.” Alfred responded as he hung up the phone. He then turned his attention to Arthur and folded his arms across his chest. “What the hell, man?” 

Arthur looked up, startled by the harsh words. “I beg your pardon?”

“So you’re just deciding that we’re gonna deny our relationship without even discussing it with me? I mean, doesn’t that sound shitty to you? The second we deny it, our lives are gonna be put under a microscope. Every visit, every interaction past and present, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ field day for every news outlet in the U.S. and U.K.!” Alfred cried, blue eyes alight with anger. 

Arthur sighed and scooted closer, gently laying his hands upon Alfred’s broad shoulders. “Darling, you know I don’t like the idea of hiding very much either,” he said, his tone oddly patronizing, “but think about what it would mean if we told the truth! Not only will we be going against rules which we agreed to follow, but we’ll be making a public spectacle of ourselves! The media is already following us around everywhere we go--imagine if they knew we were a couple! We’d never have a moment alone again. And besides, you know the political climate right now. We already have to justify the platonic relationships we have with other nations and reassure the public that they don’t sway decision-making processes. Can you imagine what they would think of our alliances if they knew how long we’d been together?”

Alfred’s shoulders slumped. Arthur was right and he knew it, but he still couldn’t stand the idea of outright denying his relationship with the man he loved. Hell, he loved Arthur so much he wanted to shout it from the rooftops! Now they didn’t just have to hide their relationship, but they had to deny it as well? It seemed like a betrayal to his heart. 

“Alright,” Alfred mumbled, lowering his eyes to the ground. “I get it, really. I just… It’s none of their business anyway. Together or not, they shouldn’t get to have this much influence.”

Arthur ran his hands upward, running them along Alfred’s slender neck and settling them upon the man’s cheeks. He gently raised Alfred’s head, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes.  “I know,” Arthur murmured, sympathetic. “I hate it too. But right now, this is how it has to be. Perhaps in the future things will be different.”

“Yeah,” Alfred muttered, still sounding incredibly defeated.

“Darling, just because we say we’re not together doesn’t mean we have to break up. We can still see each other!” Arthur insisted, giving Alfred a warm smile. He scooted even closer, laying one of his thighs over Alfred’s with a playful glint in his eyes. He laid a hand over one of Alfred’s. “You can still touch me…” He said slowly as he guided Alfred’s hand to his waist. “...And kiss me…” He leaned in, murmuring the words against Alfred’s ear. “...And pull me closer…”

Alfred couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around Arthur’s waist and pull the smaller man into his arms, grinning. “How is it that you always know just what to say to cheer me up?” He murmured as he leaned into Arthur, kissing the corner of the man’s mouth immediately after his question.

Arthur chuckled softly and raised his hands to Alfred’s hair. “Years and years of practice.”

* * *

The following morning, Alfred packed his bags and left England a week early at his boss’ urging. Immediately upon touching down in American soil, Alfred was bombarded by paparazzi and reporters shouting and taking photos of him. The photos and the shouting Alfred was used to, yes, but it was the nature of the questions that irritated him.

“Alfred, can you tell us about your relationship with Arthur Kirkland?” “How long have you and Mr. Kirkland been together?” “Mr. Jones! Have you ever made political decisions based on your relationship with Mr. Kirkland?” “Is it true that you and Mr. Kirkland were married in secret?”

Alfred’s bodyguards pushed through the crowd, ushering him through it quickly and urging him to keep his head down. “No comment,” Alfred muttered repeatedly. 

Soon, Alfred was in his boss’ office discussing the matter. The president, one of those that had originally proposed the ‘relationship ban’ as Alfred referred to it, urged Alfred to accept as many interviews as possible in order to make it clear that his relationship with Arthur was strictly platonic. Alfred agreed despite his reluctance and allowed one of the president’s assistants to begin accepting the requests for interviews which multiple news sources had sent in. 

Within three days, Alfred was seated across from a popular TV personality discussing his relationship with Arthur. 

“So, Mr. Jones--” 

“Please, call me Alfred,” he interrupted, flashing her a charming smile. 

The woman grinned in return. “Of course. So, Alfred, I would first like to say that it’s such a pleasure to have you on the show.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here. I’ve been watching the show since you started!” Alfred replied, as pleasant as ever despite the nervousness gnawing at him. 

“Well, I guess the rumors were true! You are as sweet as people say!” She giggled, grinning at the studio audience. “Now, my first question is one everyone is dying to know the answer to--are you and Arthur Kirkland, AKA Britain, currently engaged in a romantic relationship?”

Alfred’s smile suddenly felt like plastic. He shook his head. “No, not at all.”

  
The audience immediately let out “awww’s” of disappointment. The woman interviewing Alfred pouted, but continued on smoothly.

“And have you ever had a romantic relationship with him or any other nation?”

“I’m close with many nations, including Arthur, but our relationships are strictly platonic. Arthur and I have a very long history together and our relationship has changed a lot throughout the years, but no, we’ve never been romantically involved.”

“And can you explain this photo?” The woman asked as an image of Alfred and Arthur embracing appeared on the screen behind them. 

Alfred glanced upward and shrugged. “Like I said, Arthur and I are very close.”

“And this one?” A new picture appeared on the screen, this time of the two of them kissing. Alfred recognized it as the one that had been shown days prior on the newscast he’d watched with Arthur. 

Alfred remained unphased as he said, “looks like photoshop to me, or maybe two people who look like us. That’s not Arthur and I.” He lied. 

The rest of the interview went smoothly although Alfred had to lie his way through explanations of various other sightings and reports of romantic contact between he and Arthur. By the end of the interview, he was certain that most everyone in the audience was convinced that he and Arthur were not, and had never been, in a relationship. It pained Alfred to lie to his people--especially regarding something that he wanted to shout from the rooftops--but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he was only doing it because he had to. 

Still, Alfred slumped in the backseat of his car the moment he sat down. He greeted his driver, a man he knew quite well, with a halfhearted “hey, Joe,” as he leaned against the side of the door and took his phone out, texting his boyfriend. 

_ jus got done w an interview n it sucked. i miss u!!! wish we didn’t have 2 cut my trip short <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 _

After sending the message, Alfred set his phone down closed his eyes, sighing. He knew he shouldn’t be so frustrated by what was going on--he’d agreed to the rules without a fight, after all--but he couldn’t help it. He’d been with Arthur for longer than most of the critics of their relationship had been  _ alive _ ! He’d been present for every major event in the history of the United States and fought in every major battle in America’s history! If that didn’t give him the right do as he pleased--especially when what he wanted was something so simple and innocent--he didn’t know what did. 

Of course, voicing these opinions would only worsen the already tense climate surrounding him and the other personifications. Although many humans understood well that the personifications could think, feel, and act independently from the common wishes of their government and people, there were also many humans who believed it was unjust for the personifications to be treated as individuals. After all, they were supposed to represent an entire country, and therefore it was argued that the personifications should be obedient to the whims of their nation’s leader no matter what.

This line of thought utterly exhausted Alfred, who knew very well that it was impossible to force a personification into obedience. He acknowledged that he was a representation of the nation, yes, but he also knew that he was far too powerful to be limited by a particularly arrogant leader (of which he’d had many). No matter what leaders did to try and control him, Alfred always managed to find a way to defy if he wanted to. Like all of the personifications, Alfred had his own personal beliefs and they often differed from those of his government. Though most nations avoided actively interfering in the lawmaking and leadership policies of their respective countries, none were afraid to voice their displeasure when something they didn’t agree with was done. 

Which was part of the reason why Alfred was struggling to wrap his head around what he was currently doing. If it were up to him, he’d be happily recounting the day he first realized he’d fallen in love with Arthur. Instead, he was on live television denying any relationship at all. Alfred understood that his boyfriend was a man who valued his privacy, but even so he could hardly believe how quickly Arthur had resigned himself to their fate. Arthur was an independent, short-tempered man with knife-like wit and a never ending supply of sarcastic remarks. He was even less likely to submit to the demands of an authority figure than Alfred, which made his current demeanor all the stranger to Alfred. 

Alfred’s musings were interrupted by the driver pulling into his garage. Alfred thanked the man, tipped him, and got out of the cart. He opened the door which connected his garage to his home and was immediately greeted by his assistant, Sarah, standing by with a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of newspapers and magazines in the other. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones,” she said as she passed the cup to him. 

“Afternoon, Sarah. How’re you?” Alfred asked as he kicked off his oxfords and walked further into the house. “I was gonna make something to eat. You want anything?” 

Sarah followed him into the kitchen, setting the stack of magazines down on the table. “Sure,” she agreed. “But first I thought you’d like to know that several magazines and tabloid have run stories on you. I know the situation isn’t funny, but some of these headlines are… entertaining, to say the least.” She informed, appearing to hold back a smile. 

Alfred raised a brow and reached out, picking the first one off the stack. It was a well-known tabloid famous for its sensational (and often inaccurate) stories. In this particular issue, an old photo of Alfred and Arthur standing side-by-side in their WWII uniforms, Alfred’s arm slung over Arthur’s slim shoulders, had been blown up across the front cover. Above it, a small circular picture of Francis had been placed. Beside the picture was the bolded caption: ‘ **USA AND BRITAIN--MARRIED IN SECRET ON THE BEACHES OF NORMANDY! FRANCE’S SHOCKING TELL-ALL: “I WAS THE OFFICIANT!”** ’

Alfred couldn’t help but to burst out laughing at that. While the tabloid was correct in their assumption that he and Arthur were a couple during WWII, they’d never been married in secret and Francis certainly wouldn’t have been the officiant if they had. The headline was so ridiculous Alfred couldn’t help but to extract his phone and snap a quick photo, sending it immediately to his boyfriend. 

Sarah pushed a stack of magazines toward Alfred and the American sifted through them, laughing aloud at the outrageous claims many of them made about his and Arthur’s relationship. According to most of the tabloids, several nations were coming forward with ‘shocking’ information. Alfred, of course, knew it was all fabricated, but it was still funny to see some of the lies the press had invented about he and Arthur. 

“So, what d’you think of all this, Sarah?” Alfred asked as he pushed the magazines away and began to cook.

The woman let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “Well, sir, I’ve always thought that you and Mr. Kirkland make an amazing couple. I’ve never had a problem with you and neither has anyone else in the White House who knows. Unfortunately, it’s still probably best for you two to stay out of the public eye as much as possible. The fact is that the people just aren’t ready for something like this. There’s still too many unknowns about the personifications in general--no one wants to have to speculate on the implications of you having romantic relationships.” Sarah said wisely before taking a sip of her coffee. 

Alfred nodded, taking her advice to heart. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he agreed, though his heart had plummeted to the pit of his stomach. “We’ll dial it down a little, keep it lowkey.” 

 

* * *

Two busy months flew by before Alfred was next able to catch a flight to London for a long weekend with his boyfriend. He arrived in a discreet private jet wearing an oversized hoodie pulled over his head and a pair of large sunglasses, hunching himself over as inconspicuously as possible. He managed to find the car Arthur had a sent--a completely ordinary little grey car that would raise no eyebrows. Alfred hurriedly tossed his bags into it and ducked inside, greeting the driver cheerfully. The drive was quiet and long--he and Arthur had decided earlier that it would be better to shack up in one of Arthur’s more private properties, a medium-sized home in rural England that sat smack in the middle of a forest.

After several hours, they arrived. To Alfred’s surprise, Arthur wasn’t standing outside waiting for him like he usually did. Alfred had to walk all the way up to the door and even knock twice before it swung open, his boyfriend peeking out cautiously. Alfred beamed and opened his arms for Arthur, but the Brit cast a suspicious glance around and then took Alfred by the arm, tugging him into the house urgently. 

“Did anyone follow you?” Arthur asked worriedly, going to the window and drawing the curtains. 

“Babe, we’re good, I promise. Not even the paparazzi would tail me for that long just to get a shot of us,” Alfred reassured his boyfriend gently, itching to take the man into his arms. 

Arthur’s shoulders slumped in relief and he finally raised his eyes to Alfred’s face, meeting his boyfriend’s gaze. Without his permission all of the tension built up over their separation melted away and Arthur can’t help but to drop against Alfred’s strong chest, sighing as a pair of familiar arms wrapped themselves around his waist. Within seconds the world had melted away, no longer of any importance to either of them. Alfred tightened his arms around Arthur and lifted the man off the ground with ease, pulling him upward until he could press his lips to Arthur’s. The elder man hummed in approval, his feet dangling off the ground, and slipped his arms around Alfred’s neck.

Alfred carried Arthur to the couch and sat down, positioning Arthur comfortably in his lap. They broke apart and Alfred smiled, Arthur’s expression mirroring his. 

“Hey, Art,” Alfred murmured sweetly, resting his forehead against Arthur’s. 

“Hello, Al. How are you, my dear?”

“Pretty damn great now,” Alfred laughed. “Been a helluva long two months, I’ll tell you that. I’m surprised reporters haven’t done a story on my ass yet, considering how far up it they are.”

Arthur laughed aloud at the statement. “I’ve noticed. They’re like that here, too. Always shouting about when we first got together, who asked who--ridiculous questions that are none of their bloody business. How would it look if I went around shouting in people’s faces and recording their responses?”

“Couldn’t agree more, babe. Dunno how the stars deal with it,” Alfred said with a shake of his head. “But that doesn’t matter now. I don’t have to get on TV for another four days. I don’t have to check a single email, make a single phonecall. I get to spend all my time lookin’ at you.” 

“Be careful, love. I wouldn’t want you to grow tired of me,” Arthur cautioned teasingly. 

Alfred responded with a squeeze to the man’s sides that made the elder man cry out in surprise. “Never,” Alfred replied. 

Arthur hummed contentedly in response and shifted until he could lay his head upon Alfred’s shoulder. “God, it feels like forever since I’ve been with you and it was hardly any time at all.”

“How long have we been together?” Alfred asked then. 

Arthur paused for a moment, thinking. Then, “1939, darling. The summer just before the war started.” 

“Damn,” Alfred laughed. “We’re fucking old, aren’t we?”

A smile tugged at Arthur’s lips. “I more than you.” 

“True. Did you see that we’re trending on Twitter?”

“Mhm. Some of our citizens have made rather endearing comments about us. They seem to think we’re a good couple.” 

“Damn right we are. We’ve been together more than most of these people have been alive. We’re a fucking supercouple.” Alfred joked. 

“Oh, God. Don’t you dare taint our relationship with that hero nonsense you’re constantly spouting.” Arthur rolled his eyes, but he still leaned in and kissed Alfred’s forehead all the same. 

* * *

Once again, Alfred and Arthur’s vacation came to an abrupt end when a photo of the two out grocery shopping went viral. There’s nothing incriminating about it--they’re standing two feet apart, Alfred peering down the aisle at the various cereal options while Arthur reaches out for a box of granola bars. It’s an entirely mundane photograph, really, but it doesn’t matter--not to their bosses. In the eyes of the public, any photos of them together fueled suspicion, regardless of how innocent they were.

Alfred ran a hand through his hair and groaned in frustration as he listened to his boss on the other end of the phone, shouting at him about being irresponsible. Arthur had faced a similar lecture hours before, although it contained considerably less shouting. When Alfred finally hung up, he huffed angrily and nearly threw his phone at the wall. 

“He wants me to get on the next flight to New York!” Alfred yelled aloud, enraged. “I just fucking got here! Who the fuck does he think he is, telling the United States of America what to do--I’m not going anywhere! I’m finishing my fucking vacation!” Alfred huffed, folding his arms across his chest and flopping down upon Arthur’s couch. 

The Brit sighed and sat down beside him, nudging Alfred’s arm with his elbow. Alfred didn’t even look in his boyfriend’s direction as he lifted his arm and allowed Arthur to tuck himself beneath it. Even so, he hooked his hand around Arthur’s waist and tugged him closer, resting his head atop of his boyfriend’s.

“Darling, you know you can’t do that. We need to work on damage control.” Arthur said cooly, the voice of reason.

“Fuck damage control! I just wanna spend a nice weekend with my boyfriend.” 

Arthur sighed. “There will be other weekends, sweet.”

Alfred frowned, abruptly pulling away from Arthur. “Do you _want_ me to leave?” He asked, anger once again punctuating his words. 

Arthur’s thick brows furrowed, annoyed by Alfred’s accusatory tone. “I said nothing of the sort! I don’t want you to be apart from me, ever--but we have to do our part to clean this up.”

“What if I don’t want to clean this up?”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, why the fuck can’t we just be together? Why do we have to sneak around and hide? Half of the people have already guessed it anyway! Why not just confirm it?” 

“And deal with even more annoying questions and cameras and interviews? I’d rather not.” Arthur scoffed. 

“You’d rather hide our relationship away like you were ashamed of it then come forward with the truth?” Alfred retorted. “What the fuck, Arthur? Why are you so okay with all of this? You should be biting these guys’ heads off!”

“We agreed to this, Alfred!” Arthur hissed. “We agreed to this for the sake of our people and our reputations. Things are complicated enough for the humans without them having to wonder if all of their allies and trade partners could be compromised by their attachments to other nations! They’re already accusing us of meddling in human affairs!” 

“Well, until all of these assholes can claim to have fought in every major battle in the history of their native country, then they can shut their fucking mouths. I can’t believe you’re defending these assholes! Do you even  _ want _ to go public? Do you even care that I fucking hate this more than anything?” 

“Don’t you dare say that to me! You know I care--I care about you more than is healthy for me, you arse, and I always have! Don’t you dare ask me if I fucking care about you, Alfred, because the answer to that is obvious!” Arthur shouted, truly angry now. He could hardly believe Alfred was being so stubborn and selfish, and over such a crucial matter. 

“Arthur, all of this is gonna go down in history one day. Don’t you wanna be on the right side of it? I’ve already lied too much; when the public finds out, we’re all gonna be seen as untrustworthy.” 

“When? What are you planning to do, Alfred? Are you going to leak some photos of your own?” Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Why the fuck can’t you see what this is doing to me, Arthur? Christ, this is like a fucking weight pressing down on me! Every fucking time I look into a camera and I tell them-- _my people_ , Arthur--every time I tell them I don’t love you, I feel like I can’t breathe! And it doesn’t go away! It just adds up, keeps getting heavier on me and I feel like I’m fucking  _ suffocating _ !” Alfred shouted. 

When Arthur didn’t respond, too stunned to say a word, Alfred leapt off the couch and stormed toward the bedroom they’d been sharing over the past two days. Arthur hopped up and stomped after him, catching the bedroom door just before it slammed shut. 

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” Arthur shouted, enraged. “You’re acting like a child, Alfred!” 

“Yeah? Well then you’ll be glad to see me go!” Alfred retorted, furiously stuffing the few items of clothing that weren’t already in his suitcase back into it. “You should be happy--I’m taking your advice! Next plane to New York it is!” Alfred snapped sarcastically. 

Arthur snatched Alfred’s woven scarf off of his dresser and threw it angrily in Alfred’s direction. “The sooner the better!” 

Alfred turned and stormed out of the house without looking back. 

 

* * *

The week after their fight was hell for Alfred and Arthur both. Although they both spent the better part of the day after their fight silently stewing, each one equally angry with the other, their anger was always quick to dissipate. They’d been together far too long to let something as stupid as politics get in their way--hell, they’d spent years trying to avoid politics altogether when they were together.

Of course, it was different when their relationship became political. It was something neither of them had ever expected or prepared for--completely uncharted territory. Alfred, for his part, was glad he’d made his feelings on the matter clear. He was tired of beating around the bush and shoving his feelings aside for the sake of people who knew nothing about him nor Arthur. Their relationship, though old to humans, was new to them. It wasn’t enough time for either of them to lay down a complex political structure based around each other the way that humans said they would have done if they were together. No, they were far too focused on simply learning who the other was--learning how to be together--than they were on anything else. Their time together was often blissfully disconnected from their professional lives, and Alfred would give anything to prove that. 

He hated hiding. He hated sneaking around. More than anything, he hated looking out unto his people and lying to their faces--especially about something that was so important to him. Each time he forced a smile onto his face and responded, “no, I don’t have any feelings for Arthur Kirkland” he swore he felt a physical pain in his chest. It was unbearable. There were times where Alfred felt as though his heart would rip itself right out of his chest and run to Arthur--how could he possibly be expected to deny a feeling that strong? 

Unbeknownst to him, Arthur felt the same way. He’d come to regret his words despite the truth behind them. It was logical, it was  _ safe _ , to pretend they had no involvement. If they allowed word to spread that they were romantically involved and had been for close to a century, surely they’d never be allowed to see each other again. Their bosses would pile their desks high with paperwork, lock them behind closed doors, and force their heads down. They’d hardly ever see each other, and certainly not in private. 

What would Arthur do then? What would he do without Alfred’s strong, calloused hands on his scarred skin, easing the pain with the soothing balm of his sweat? How would he navigate without the star-map in Alfred’s eyes? How could he be expected not to burn himself alive without Alfred’s sweet voice like water pouring over him, ridding him of the fire Arthur had so long burned himself trying to tame? 

Arthur was afraid. He was a courageous man, yes; he’d done many a thing far riskier than tell the world about a relationship of his. And yet none had he spent nearly as long contemplating as he had on this. For the entirety of the week that he and Alfred didn’t talk, Arthur lost himself to the matter. Could he survive without Alfred? No. Could he live with himself knowing that he was making Alfred unhappy, knowing that by protecting himself he was subjecting the man he loved to indescribable pain? Of course not. Neither option could make them both happy; not if things played out the way Arthur was sure they would. 

Still, the more Arthur thought upon the matter, the more one unyielding truth presented itself: he wanted Alfred to be happy more than anything. If Alfred was happy everything would be alright, Arthur assured himself. That smile of his could cure sickness, it could make sunlight shine where there was none, it could make a sinner a saint. 

So, when Alfred finally called, Arthur leapt at his phone and picked it up immediately. 

“Hey,” Alfred said, chewing nervously at his bottom lip. 

“Hello,” Arthur returned, unsure of what to say. He had so much he wanted to, but God, his throat felt as though it was closing up. Hearing Alfred’s voice only reminded him of the last time he’d heard it, shouting at him before he’d stormed out in a rage. 

Alfred sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face. He was seated inside a small break room not far from the room where he’d be giving yet another interview regarding his relationship with Arthur in less than twenty minutes. 

“Listen, Art, I--I can’t go on the air until I say I’m sorry. I can’t tell them I don’t love you without making sure you know it isn’t true first. So, I’m sorry. And I love you. I love you so fucking much. I swear I’m not mad at you. I get it, I really do. I can handle this. I just want us to be able to be together.” Alfred murmured, forcing himself to keep the tears that threatened to trail down his cheeks at bay. 

Arthur let out a shaky breath on the other end. “God, Alfred, I love you too. I don’t want you to lie anymore, darling--I want you to be happy. You built your country on freedom--I won’t take yours away from you. Tell them. We can deal with the rest later.”

“Wh-What?” Alfred asked, his jaw dropping. 

“I mean it. Tell them whatever you want, Alfred. How long we’ve been together, how it happened, how much you love me.” Arthur encouraged, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t see Alfred, but he knew the man was grinning. 

“Art, are you sure?” 

“Yes, you git, do I sound unsure?” Arthur snapped, the harshness of his words undercut by his stifled laughter. “Do it. We’ll stand by each other and make it work.”

Alfred let out a giddy laugh and suddenly he was speaking quickly, excited. “Babe, you’re seriously the best. You have no idea. I’m gonna do it for real.”

Arthur laughed. “Well, I’d certainly hope so.”

Sarah suddenly poked her head into the room. “Sir, you’re on in five minutes. They want you to come out and get a microphone.” 

“Alright,” Alfred agreed. “Artie, turn your TV on. I’m doing a live interview with Barbie Ross. Shit’s about to go down.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “God, Alfred, don’t make me regret this,” he groaned. 

“I won’t. Love you, Art.” 

“Love you too, Al.” 

Alfred shoved his phone into his pocket and strode confidently out of the break room and into the room where his interview would take place. Within minutes Alfred was seated across from Barbie, smiling into the camera as she introduced him. They went through the usual pleasantries quickly and Barbie immediately dove into the questions that Alfred had been answering for several months. 

“So, Alfred, is it true that you and Arthur Kirkland are not romantically involved at all?” The woman asked, staring intently at him. 

Alfred gazed back at her and grinned. “No, Barbie, it’s not. That’s actually the furthest thing from the truth.”

The woman paused for a moment, stunned. Then, as professional as ever, she pressed on: “Then what is the truth?”

Alfred let out a slight laugh, feeling the weight dissipate immediately as he began to speak. “The truth is that I’ve been in love with Arthur Kirkland for damn near a century, and he’s loved me back all that time.”

“Well, Mr. Jones, this is certainly an interesting development. I-I have several questions for you, then, regarding your relationship.”

“Sure, Barbie, go ahead.” Alfred beamed. 

While Arthur watched Alfred answer questions on the TV, he opened twitter. He snapped a picture of Alfred onscreen and posted it along with the caption “#Brimerica forever. @BarbieRoss @USAOfficial.” 


End file.
